


Crunch

by MidnightsNightmares



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: chara talks shit about papy and sans aint having any of it, he about to dunk that child into the black pit of hell they crawled out of, sans aint about to have any of charas shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-30 17:49:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5173463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightsNightmares/pseuds/MidnightsNightmares
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During the time that Chara isn't allowed to attack Sans, they bring up conversation to pass a little time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crunch

The first couple of minutes, it was a hateful stare down.

Sans knew he was worn out to the core and ready to toss the metaphorical towel in. Well, he's been ready for that since he woke up today, lazily sprawled out on the couch with a loose blanket tossed over him brought out from the closet, Papyrus standing over him with a furious look on his face for not making it up to his bedroom yet another night. And then after he threw the towel in he likely would proceed to take a nap on top of it. Any minute now was all it would take but he had to hold out the best he could. Even if sweat dotted his face and his bones ached to the point he thought they were chipping away bit by bit, he gripped onto the last remaining shred of hope and energy he had.

This was his last chance to stop things like this from proceeding and if he did give in, then it'd mean more then just him dying. It mean this entire existence and every trace of this world ever being recognized would vanish with a simple word and wave of hand from a child who hardly knew what they were doing. And why this child thought that this, something they can't even understand themself, was the best option for a world they'd never step foot in before, he wasn't sure. He had to wonder though as he stood there, rocking on his feet slightly as the smaller child began to look infuriated from the restricted movement:

When did the portal to hell open, and why did they let this thing crawl out of it?

"So...you tired yet? Ready to give up and be good, kid?" Sans asked, yawning into the palm of his hand.

"Nope."

"...Right."

The child snickered, hands still tightly gripping the handle of the knife they were holding. Their eyes glimmered with want, captivated on Sans' chest. He could only wonder what they were thinking truly but knowing how messed up this demon was, he'd literally say take a stab at it. Sighing, eyelids heavy and hands stuffed in his warm and comforting pockets of his jacket, he wondered how much longer this kid could really hold out. Wondered when they'd get bored and just give up or wondered when maybe he'd have to put an end to this. Really, he knew that they weren't the one to just stop everything and leave but they'd get sleepy eventually. They had to, no matter how much determination they had. And Sans would recover his energy during that time as well.

And then, maybe, he'd be the one taking the stab at it.

Murder might be an uncomfortable subject to Sans, and definitely performing the act was going to be scarring, but anything to stop this hell beast from raining havoc down on this world anymore. He didn't care how messed up it would be to murder a child but in reality they weren't the best person they could be. They done as much damage as they could already but Sans could at least save someone from danger.

Even if that someone isn't as important to him as the someone he lost.

"Sans," the human called out. "Since you're gonna keep me real still, you gotta answer my question."

Sans glared at them. They snickered.  
  
"Really, humor me for a moment."

"Go ahead. One wrong word outta ya and I might just end ya anyway, so I'm not stopping you."

"Scary," the human said, giggling. Their hands ran over the sharp edge of the knife, as if in a trance by the feeling of the cold metal passing over their fingertips. They licked at their lips when they glanced at the very minimal amount of blood that covered the edge, appearing hungry all of the sudden. Sans really wouldn't put it past them to cut their own hand to lick at the blood they'd get to taste. As if the amount on the knife wasn't enough. They looked up with a new light of evil in their eyes, the smile on their face enough to scare a grown man.

"How'd it feel to find your brother on the ground, melted to complete bits of useless dust?"

The human laughed again. High pitched and cheerful. Sans had to wonder if sometime in their life before all of this if that laugh was seen as precious rather then terrifying. He could only wonder who raised that hell beast, and wonder if those people missed them. If they would hold them close when (or if) they returned home, giving them sweet kisses while they cleaned them up of the blood and dust covering their body. They couldn't question it likely, as they would be more thankful to have their child back. Even if they'd become a murderer.

Sometimes, Sans realized, he could think of odd things at odd moments. This time, he guessed, it was reasonable. He learned all, as if this wasn't already self evident, that not all people with a journey may have heroic intentions.

"Wonderful," Sans replied, sarcastic. His voice was deep, but it seemed somehow as he spoke it dropped a few more octaves.

This sick little shit...

"It was the best moment of my life," Sans went on to say, tone dripping with the deepest hate he was able to muster up while trying to shield his emotions at a time where he couldn't be vulnerable.

"But y'know, I got an even better moment coming up."

The human tilted their head, passing the knife back and forth between their hands.

"Oh?"

And though it was a scary thing to think of if it were anybody else, Sans let his grin widen even more.

"...Tearing that sweet little grin off your face and sending you back to the black pit you crawled out of."

"Oh, Sans," the human said, the cheer in their voice rising. "You plan to let go so I can break your bones finally? You know the second you do, you're such a goner. You won't survive this next time so you're cowering and relying on your power to keep me away."

They laughed loudly again.

"Boy, how pathetic are you! Scared of a little kid."

"Nope. Don't plan on it," he said, grin settling back down. "...It ain't weak. You ain't no protagonist, kiddo. You're a demon. It ain't weak to protect myself. That, and others."

"Bet you're feeling real empty," the child said, continuing. "Really empty. You loved your brother lots from what I could see. It's a shame that he was just such a vulnerable idiot. Yet, you didn't protect him."

Of course.

"Kids like you should learn when it's time to stop talking," Sans quipped, trying to direct the subject away from that particular topic but if that was obvious enough. The human snapped it up on spot. They knew when they struck a nerve.

"But it's true, y'know? He was a loser. He wasn't going far in life anyway. Really, did he think was worth something that big of a dream he had? I did him a favor. He would only embarrass himself, and look: now you don't have to deal with that!"

They lifted the knife to point it at Sans, twirling it between their fingers. Sans felt his own hand clench. It was an angered reaction, and not to mention unconscious, but it was holding him back from crushing their little skull. He swallowed down a lot of more nastier things he wanted to say despite it tasting so bitter and chose to remain silent.

They were doing this to provoke a reaction out of him and Sans knew that he shouldn't cater to that. If he did, then they'd be deriving pleasure from it.

Even if it went against a lot of what he believed, he'd really might have to walk out with his clothes covered in blood.

"Aren't I great?"

"...Yeah. You're great." Sans muttered, avoiding their line of sight by looking elsewhere in the room. To the golden walls and to the golden floors - it really wasn't fitting for this type of scenario where someone was to lose their life. Sans didn't plan on turning into a pile of dust but he knew he should keep that possibility in the back of his mind. He'd rather not anyone die, but knowing this hell beast, someone was going to walk out of the room alive with a dead body in the hallway. Or a pile of dust instead. Gold was a color of wealth, fortune and promise.

Yet, the only promise Sans found himself making here was he wasn't going to be mad at himself when the human did die.

 _When_ , not _if_. There could be no ' _if_ ' about this anymore.

"Walked over his bones before he died. When he was on the ground, grasping at life to keep himself up, I walked over and stepped on him. Cracked his ribs, his throat and his skull. It made a weird crunching noise. Wonder if you'd be any different?"

Really, all he had to do to get his mind off the fact it would be him forcing himself to kill another living being was think of all the people that were dead because of them. Remembering things like seeing their smiling faces sometime in the past, even if it was long ago and he hadn't given them a second thought. Remembering things like how Papyrus would excitedly ask him if the spaghetti he made was delicious, to which Sans would sometimes tease him about the fact it could use a pinch of salt or a pinch of a ridiculous ingredient he thought up of right then and there. Or how Papyrus would walk into Sans' room and scowl at the fact it was somehow messier then it was last time and do something nice like gather some dirty clothes on the floor up, wash them and fold them before putting them away. Remembering how all of that would likely never be seen again made something inside of him grow bitter.

Little, minor things like that, and the idea of that small neck clasped between his fingers with every bone breaking underneath them was satisfactory. He wondered how badly it could hurt, or how badly they would cry. Would they laugh at the pain, or would they cry for mercy? Would they beg Sans to leave them alone or would they say to keep going?

Sans was worn done, but he didn't care. He didn't care how much determination this hell beast had. If he had to kill them every single way he could before they finally gave up, then, that was fine.

"...Friendship, y'know?" Sans suddenly said. "You ever had a friend, kid?"

"Plenty."

Sans still didn't look their way.

"You like 'em lots?"

"Oh, of course."

"Miss 'em?"

"Not terribly."

"All of 'em on the surface?"

"None of your business, that's the answer to that."

Sans snickered. Of course. Well, he supposed their location didn't matter.

"You could always have another if you give up," he offered. It was an attempt he tried earlier but they had none of it. Swiped at him with that knife so fast he barely had time to react. They had nothing else to do, so, he had to bring up some sort of topic to keep himself awake.

"I hate holding grudges. So much hate, and hate takes up energy. So...uh...yeah. Maybe...see your mistakes."

"Mistakes? When did I make one of those?"

"Don't play dumb," Sans said. They giggled at his reaction.

"Really. Murder is a bad thing, but...y'know something, kiddo?"

"Hm?"

Sans sighed.

"...Even if you're the spawn of hell, I think ya got a shred of good in ya. Maybe ya just...needa...remember your good side?"

The human raised a suspicious eyebrow at him. They didn't believe him of course. Sans wouldn't put it past them that they even believed they were some sort of evil deity doing the work of the Devil, and maybe even proud of that, but perhaps they'd even taken interest in what he said. They crossed their arms, their legs seemingly getting tired of standing in place. Sans shrugged his shoulders at them.

"Food for thought," he tossed out. "Unless you wanna investigate that good side of yours?"

"Oh, please," they said, exaggerating the exhaustion they were displaying. "You'd really think after every single person I've killed that I'd believe you when you say I have a piece of good inside of me? I mean...this is what you're supposed to do on adventures, right?" They continued, lowering the knife in their hands to be pointing downward toward the floor.

"Everything on TV. Everything on adventures in books. Everything - anything like this that I've seen, the good guy slays monsters to get what he wants. So...I'm not any different, right? Who's to say that the people I've killed were good?"

"Well, did you know that they were bad?"

"Not particularly. They attacked, so I did too. Reason enough, right?"

"Sounds like blind judgement to me."

"...Pfft, I don't think so," they replied. "I mean...if they were good, they wouldn't have attacked, right?"

"You aren't exactly something someone's had to deal with before. You're a hell beast in my opinion, but I suppose technically speaking you're actually just human. And if anything about propaganda, you're something for them to fear in the first place."

"...And what are you implying that I should have done?"  
  
Sans shrugged his shoulders.

"Mercy, kiddo, is something that ain't recognized often. Remember earlier? I was trying to give you mercy," _even if it was an attempt to kill you_ , he thought, "but you rejected it. I mean, you got another chance here. Wanna make it all up? See what a little mercy stands for?"

Sans opened up his arms. Sometimes it hurt to lie through his own teeth but even so, he knew what mercy was. They didn't deserve a single ounce of it but he still believed the best for anyone. He hadn't allowed them to move yet, still keeping them in place, but the open arms were a way of offering.

"...Hah, you're delusional, you know that? You're gonna willingly hug me even though you know you're going to die soon after? One of us has to be victorious."

"Not necessarily," Sans said. "Not at all."

"...Tch. You make no sense," they mumbled to themself. Sans still kept his arms open, keeping the offer there. The human looked suspicious still, though seemingly something crept up on their face. An expression he couldn't make out. A devious one, one that might be on the face of a mastermind. As if they thought of something brilliant, the human sighed, then spoke up again.

"Alright. You gotta let me move though."

"Do you think I'm _that_ stupid?" Sans asked, rhetorical. "I'm not. Toss the knife, kiddo. Turn around and toss it down the hall. Far away from you."

"You can't be - "

"Do it."

The human still looked suspicious of him. Sans gave them a somewhat stern look, letting them know without a doubt he wasn't going to let up on that. Honestly, did they think they were about to walk up here with the knife in hand? Sure, Sans could see why that would make them uneasy. Especially after all of that violent fighting. But he wasn't about to risk his own bones just to make them comfortable.

With a roll of their eyes, the human turned around back to the direction they came. Drawing their arm back, knife in the air, they threw it as hard as they could down the hall. It flew, and when it landed it clattered loudly against the ground. Sans couldn't see where it went yet at the same time it gave him some relief. Turning back around, the human crossed their arms, raising an eyebrow, waiting for him to give in.

"...Come over here," Sans said. "And I promise you we can...fix, everything you've done."

"Never said I wanted that..."

"But a hug might change that opinion."

And with that, feeling safe, Sans returned their ability to move. Mainly he'd restricted them from taking steps closer to him but they could move as much as they could like over where they stood. They didn't trust him by look in their eyes but slowly, step by step they closed the distance between the two. Something in Sans' chest was pounding hard, nerves filling him, but it was merely from the excitement of the rush he was getting. The thrill of an ending. The conclusion that ends the conflict.

A tantalizing possibility.

The human nearly collapsed in his arms when they reached him. Exhausted and injured body draped over his own, dust wafting up by the impact, Sans only closed his eyes as he drew his arms around them tightly. A firm, safe hug around their back. They could just barely reach his chest. These were the kind of hugs he'd given to his brother, and others on occasion if he felt as if he could allow that.

The thrill in him stirred with temptation and the resting thirst for blood nearly spilled over.

"Say, kiddo..." He said, his voice low, near a whisper.

Their body froze up. Their body was trembling.

"Yeah?"

"...When you stepped on Papyrus," Sans began, arms secure around their waist. He could feel the tension rising in them. Suddenly, their hands were slipping away from around him and on his chest, pushing at it. 

Sans couldn't help but laugh. Sadistic and cruel.

"Did it sound like this?"

And without hesitation, all strength he had in himself, he slowly slid his hands up to wrap around their neck, fingers without caution gripping in place there with his thumbs pressing into their air stream. Their skin was soft. Delicate, smooth soft skin that he was puncturing with his bones. All he'd have to do is dig his fingers in and drag them to tear skin and make them bleed but that would take too much time.

The small human fought briefly, trying to struggle, seeing the error of their ways quickly and probably should haven't trusted Sans since the beginning but nearly crumbled beneath him the second he applied the pressure. It wasn't right away, and they were still slapping their hands against his chest, telling him to stop it. That this wasn't mercy, and this wasn't going to make them learn any lesson but honestly - Sans couldn't give less then a shit what they knew about mercy.

Bones cracked under his own. He could feel them breaking as well. Little popping sounds filled the silent and now cold air, along with tiny gasps that formed no words in particular out of them. 

They'd just reset. They'd just reset and they'd be back in no time but _this_ was satisfying. He thought about the pile of familiar costume clothes he found over a pile of dust and dug his fingers in even deeper, pushing their head back, as if trying to snap it completely in half. He wouldn't mind that. He pushed harder, seeing if he could accomplish this. He wasn't sure if he was successful until their head suddenly jutted out at an odd angle, almost dangling uselessly.

If he could do this every single time they did they reset, it would be fulfilling. They couldn't even lift their hands to fight back. They'd drop to their sides, useless as odd choking noises managed to worm their way past their lips looking to function and probably curse at Sans.

With that thought, he dropped the human. Not roughly, but abrupt. They'd just slipped out of his fingers so easily. They fell to the ground, and with their little neck broken, their head tilted a funny way. It looked uncomfortable.

"Adventurers may have intentions to rescue themselves from bad situations," Sans said, smiling down at the human.  
  
"But you're the bad one, kid."

**Author's Note:**

> Uh. Yeah, this is it, I guess.
> 
> I'm not even sorry for the shit quality that this is lmao I'm way too lazy to edit.


End file.
